Not One of Them
by chinquix
Summary: Alternative title: Yet Another Superhero AU, in Which Arthur is a Prat With an Inferiority Complex, and Alfred is...Alfred. Eventual USUK.


**Alternative title: Yet Another Superhero AU, In Which Arthur Is A Prat With An Inferiority Complex, And Alfred Is...Alfred. Yes, yes, I'm starting ANOTHER one. I'm sorry, I can't help it T-T **

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_**TORNADO FEVER SWEEPS THE NATION!**_

_PUBLIC PRAISES SUPERHERO'S LATEST VICTORY_

His lip curled in distaste as he read the headline, the paper folded neatly on his lap. That was the third time this week. Muttering to himself, he took a sip of Earl Grey from the teacup beside him and flipped through a few pages, hoping to find some respite from the grinning face of that idiot who called himself "Tornado", but his efforts were to no avail; there were interviews with the fool, articles about his favourite foods (_hamburgers_, of all things!), quizzes based on his many 'accomplishments'...he growled, exasperated, and tossed the newspaper aside. "Bloody hero," he muttered to no one in particular, "Thinks he's so important."

"Someone's in a bad mood."

He whipped his head around, startled, but then his guarded expression relaxed into annoyance. "For heaven's sake, Sadiq, I thought I told you not to sneak up on me like that!" The newcomer stepped out of the shadows and smirked, removing a white mask as he approached. He was tall, with clothes that were Turkish in origin, made of rich reds and golds, and looked highly out of place in the dungeon-like cellar he was currently occupying. He paused a few steps away, lowering himself gracefully into a strategically placed chaise longue and stretching his limbs in a recumbent manner. He tutted.

"Now, now, Arthur, behave. Honestly, are all Brits so highly strung, or is it just you?" The Brit in question decided to ignore the veiled insult, instead scoffing at the intruder and returning to his tea. "You know, if the Boss finds out you're wasting time like this..." he let the threat hang in the air, and there followed a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"And who's going to tell him?" Arthur finally hissed, retorting with a threat of his own. As he spoke, a green tinge creept slowly across the cellar, accompanied with what sounded faintly like male voices chanting. He was mildly pleased when a look of fear passed across his associate's face, but it only lasted a moment. The Turk nodded with a scowl, confirming his silence on the matter. "Good," the green-eyed Briton smiled coldly. He thought he heard Sadiq mutter a curse under his breath, followed by something along the lines of 'prissy-assed brat', but he let it slide. After all, no one could out-curse _him_. He turned to a large screen suspended above his head, displaying blueprints and data of what appeared to be a large stately home. "Back to work, then..." he hummed.

Alfred F. Jones took pride in his appearance. He was one of those naturally handsome people who instantly charmed everyone around them, with a beaming smile and sparkling eyes that emphasised his youth. He was confident and outgoing. He was athletic, tall, golden skinned.

He was also a genetic experiment gone wrong.

One would never guess to look at him that this seemingly honest, open, ever so slightly dim individual was in fact harbouring a secret. Not a dark secret, per se. Not even a deep one. But a secret, nonetheless. The truth was this; while Alfred was, during the day, an underpaid video game designer for a small, mediocre company that specialised in shoot 'em ups, at night (or whenever he was bored and had nothing else to do, either works), he became the Lycra-clad, masked vigilante known simply as 'Tornado'.

Don't be fooled, though; his backstory is neither interesting nor original. Two years ago, a friend of his, who had a talent for science but a lack of common sense, decided it would be a good idea to skip the animal testing stage of his muscle-enhancing artificial hormone and go straight to human trials. Being of the opinion that this was a stroke of genius, Alfred (who was really more of a physicist and never claimed to fully understand the whole biochemistry thing anyway) went along with the experiment of said friend (who was named Tobias and just so happened to be Danish), and ended up with super speed thanks to abnormally flexible muscle tissue. Tobias then attempted to sell him off to a freak show.

Needless to say, Alfred had been rather suspicious of Danes since that incident.

At this moment in time, however, the self-proclaimed hero was waiting impatiently in line at his favourite eating establishment.

"Come on, come _on_," he grumbled, tapping out a rhythm against his jeans and casting restless glances around him. "I want me a Big Mac." He checked the watch on his wrist, groaning when he saw the time; ten minutes to go. He shuffled from foot to foot, then hissed a '_finally_' under his breath and bounded forward when the nearest cashier became free, startling the teen operating it with his exuberance.

Before he even had time to place his order, though, a shrill scream tore through the air. Alfred clenched his fist, gave one last, longing look at the brightly coloured photo of is never-to-be-eaten hamburger, then growled in exasperation and dashed out of the McDonalds.

He was met with a scene surprisingly common in his line of work; a young woman, dangling precariously from the ledge of a six-storey building, shrieking her lungs out. How the hell she got up there was anyone's guess. Alfred would never understand what it was with women and dangling from ridiculously tall buildings. Quickly dashing unnoticed down a side-alley, he slipped off his chequered shirt and superman logo-emblazoned top to reveal green Lycra, pulling a mask out of the satchel slung over one shoulder and hastily placing it over his face. Dumping the clothes and bag behind a skip, he took a few steps away from the brick wall of the building to his left, before sprinting towards it and flinging himself upwards, grasping at the brick before swinging onto the fire escape. He was on the roof in a second, and hauling the woman up to safety in two.

Alfred was vaguely aware of silence below, then cheers as the watching crowd slowly cottoned on to what had just happened. Sirens announced the arrival of the emergency services. The woman blinked, eyes glistening, then looked up at the man who'd just saved her life.

"You just saved my life..!" she said.

_Way to point out the obvious_, Alfred thought to himself, but still flashed her a grin anyway. "No big deal, Ma'am. It's all in a day's work."

"Tor-na-do! Tor-na-do!" The familiar chant rose in volume, reaching a near-deafening pitch when Alfred rose a hand to acknowledge it and waved cheerfully. He loved this part; it wasn't that he was particularly vain, or arrogant (though his cousin would certainly beg to differ), it was just the whole feeling of being adored that filled him full of warmth. _Man_, he thought to himself absently, _I'm such a cliché_.

Deciding now was probably a good time to take his leave, Alfred checked the woman once again to make sure she was alright (other than the fact that she looked worryingly like she was melting at the sight of him, she _seemed_ unharmed) before nodding to the firefighters who'd just managed to make their way onto the roof of the building. "She's all yours, guys!" he winked, then was gone in a rush of wind and fluttering papers. He was an expert at dramatic exits.

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**A huge thank you to ShaCaro on dA~**

**I finally fell prey to the Superhero AU D: I kept telling myself I'd resist it, but to no avail...*sigh* Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! This was an attempt at humour, probably failed ^^; Please review, even if it's just to tell me to stop starting all these new fics and focus on my current ones!**

**~Chinquix  
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